Lisa Scottoline - Think Twice

She flipped her thinking. The animal wasn’t her enemy, he was her friend. He was on her side. She needed it to keep scratching and digging. She started pounding again, this time to taunt him, then began scratching on the wood, digging toward the animal as he dug toward her. Each of them scratched his side of the lid, the animal on the top and her on the bottom, mirror images of each other.

She grunted with effort, reduced to some primal state, merging into her animal self, clawing frantically at the wood, raking her nails along its surface. Something in her snapped when she realized that this was her last chance. She was running out of air.

She clawed and dug and tore, then started pounding, not feeling the pain, not smelling the stink, devolved and focused only on her scratching, fueled by the scratching on the other side.

She wouldn’t stop until she was dead.

Or devoured.

Alice studied the claims in the Rexco Complaint, and it wasn’t difficult. The gist was that Rexco was a national manufacturer of screw-top lids, and three of its employees had quit to go work for a rival company, taking with them the trade secrets for making the lids, which violated Pennsylvania law. A different law firm had drafted the Complaint, and she could see that it wasn’t well done, full of typos and bad citation form, which were basic mistakes.

She flipped through the correspondence file and found a letter from Rexco, asking to come to the office for new representation, and another letter, from Bennie, agreeing to the meeting and outlining an overview of trade secret and unfair competition law in the Commonwealth, which gave Alice a complete script for the meeting on Monday.

She knew she’d have to quote some of the cases and maybe use a legal buzzword or two, so she turned to the laptop, logged on to Lexis, and skimmed enough cases to hum a few bars. Then she shifted gears, mentally put the Rexco file away, and got back to her own agenda by logging on to travelocity.com. She couldn’t find any direct flights from Philly to Nassau in the evening, so she booked the last flight to Miami, then a connection to Nassau on Monday night, paid for with Bennie’s Amex.

“Bennie?”

Alice jumped, then minimized the travel website.

“DiNunzio.”

“Sorry to interrupt. You were working so hard, you didn’t hear me knock. I wanted you to know that the brief is almost done and I’m going home.”

“Already?”

Mary looked apologetic. “It’s almost six o’clock.”

Give her approval, but a little at a time. “I’ll finish by tomorrow night, so it’s ready to be filed on Monday morning. You want me to email you a copy?”

“No, there’s no need to. I trust your work.”

“Thanks. See you.” Mary smiled happily, then left and closed the door behind her, and Alice went back online, looking for hotels in Nassau. There was no Ritz or Four Seasons, but there were decent ones with availability, since it was off season. She looked up the address of the BSB bank in Nassau and booked a hotel near the bank, so she could be there when it opened, then started cruising the web for offshore banks in Switzerland and the Caymans, because she’d have to move the money one more time. By the time anybody realized she was gone for good, the money would be gone for good, too.

When she looked up again, it was eight o’clock. The computer screen glowed, and the hallway had darkened. Outside the window, the city lights were coming up, white squares from office buildings and neon lines on the spiky skyscrapers. She packed the Rexco file in Bennie’s knapsack, because no lawyer ever went home without work, then grabbed her messenger bag. She hit the elevator, put on her game face, and walked toward the security desk, where she signed out with Bennie’s signature.

Steve looked up from his newspaper, his eyes unfocused behind his glasses. “Good night, Bennie. Like I said, don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thanks.” Alice left and pushed through the old-fashioned doors, and outside it was sweltering, even at this hour. The street was congested, and she hailed a cab, which pulled over quickly. She opened the door and slid into the backseat, sticky on her bare thighs. “No air?” she asked, but the old cabbie shrugged his shoulders.

“Sorry.”

She gave him Bennie’s address and sat back, letting the hot air blow on her face. The ride wasn’t long, and she eyed the couples walking hand-in-hand, going out to dinner and clubs, all dressed up. It was Saturday night and she was horny as hell, but her only date was the Rexco file.

The cab reached Bennie’s neighborhood and cruised down the street toward her house, but there was someone sitting on her front step. In the dark, it looked like a homeless guy, but as the cab got closer, she could see that he was a total hunk, tall and blond. He looked too straight to be her type, but he was still hot, even in glasses and a striped tie. She couldn’t see his features clearly, but he had light, wavy hair, an old-school white shirt, and his suit jacket was slung over one shoulder.

She handed the driver a ten, grabbed her messenger bag and knapsack and got out of the cab, rearranging her features into the Bennie mask.

The man gave her a wave, obviously mistaking her for Bennie, and rose to meet her, his smile partly in shadow.

She finally recognized him. It was the one who got away. Bennie’s old boyfriend, Grady Wells. She remembered him from the trial, where he sat in the gallery to observe one or two days.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, embracing her. “Surprised to see me?”

“Happily so,” she answered, hugging him back. The Rexco file would wait. Her Saturday night had fallen into place.

She smelled reunion sex.

Mary was trying to make a decision, which wasn’t her strong suit. This time the choice was BF or BFF-should she go see her boyfriend or her best friend forever? She hoped to decide on the walk home. The only downside to having a boyfriend was that you were supposed to spend time with them, even when they were cranky.

She had stopped off and done some shopping, but it hadn’t helped her make a decision, and now she owned three shirts she didn’t need, even at ten percent off. She always bought all the stuff she didn’t need on sale, so she could save money as she wasted it, which seemed time-efficient and very partnery.

She sighed, walking in the heat. It was dark, and weekend traffic clogged the street. A couple hurried past her, the guy holding a dry-cleaned tuxedo in a plastic bag. Another couple strolled by, laughing. It was Saturday night, and under federal law, Mary wasn’t allowed to spend it with a BFF if she had a BF. But she and her BF didn’t have any plans, and a sick BFF trumped a healthy BF, especially if the Phillies were playing, but they weren’t. The laws of dating could be so complicated, and it was lucky she had a J.D.

The shops were locking their doors as she passed, and the restaurants beginning to form lines out the door. She was coming to a decision. She didn’t think Anthony would mind if she spent the evening with Judy. Maybe he was as bugged as she was, though it wasn’t his partnership in question, his boss in trouble, or his parents headed for Cheaters . She took her phone out of her purse, pressed A, and waited for him to pick up.

“Hey, babe,” he said, breathless.

“How are you?”

“Working away. I left the library to take your call.”

“I’m sorry. Do you mind if I don’t see you tonight? Judy’s sick, and I should go over.”

“No problem, I’ll just work. Call me later?”

“I won’t be done with her until late.”